In Love with You
by BigWorldSouth
Summary: Hi. My name is Cyrus, and this is the strange, wonderful story of how I fell in love with the best guy in the world.
1. Chapter 1

Afraid.

Two hours on the swings, and that's all I've come up with. Just one single, lonely word. Afraid.

That's why I never told Jonah all the things I felt about him. That's why every time I looked into those beautiful eyes and saw that soft, warm smile, I choked. I was afraid.

I wasn't afraid of him. Not exactly. On every list of Jonah's qualities, good and bad, "loyal friend" must be at the top. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

At least, not intentionally. For all my life though, I've known one thing: I'm not like everyone else. Until a few years ago I didn't know exactly why that was, but now I do. Boys like girls. That was the simple truth for most of my life, and I didn't know it was even possible to live differently. Then I met Jonah Beck, and everything changed. My heart beat faster when I was around him. I talked to him about the things I liked because I wanted him to like them, too. I went to his sporting events even though I wasn't at all interested in them just to spend time with him. And maybe, just maybe, he would want to spend time with me, too. That's where the fear comes in. If he ever knew, if I ever told him, I'm afraid he wouldn't want to spend time with me anymore. I'm not afraid of what he might do; I'm afraid of what he might never do again.

That is the hardest realization I've come to about this. I shut people out of this important part of my life because I'm afraid of being shut out. I feel so alone because I'm afraid of being alone.

So I come here, and I swing. And I swing, and I swing.

"That's a nice song," someone says behind me. I didn't even realize I was singing. "Chocolate chocolate chip muffin, right?"

It's TJ, the basketball star that helped me get a chocolate chocolate chip muffin from the cafeteria. "Scary basketball guy," I say.

He's tall, with blond hair that sweeps up and to the left at the top. His blue eyes pierce your soul, and his jawline is sharp enough to cut an apple.

"Actually, TJ." Something's not right with him. He has the same look on his face that I did when I got here.

"I know," I say quietly. "Cyrus."

"So," he says, "do you come here often?" He walks to the swing next to me.

"Only when I'm feeling bad about myself," I tell him. "So, fairly often."

"Does it help?" Something is definitely wrong.

"Helps me," I shrug. "Go on, you look like you need it."

He climbs in the swing, and starts going back and forth. "Wow, this does kind of make me feel better," he giggles.

"You're the captain of the basketball team, what do you have to feel better about?"

"You don't know me," he says pensively. "I got stuff."

I'm not sure what to think about that, but it's a question for another swing session. "Bet'cha I got more stuff."

"Yeah? Bet'cha I can swing higher," he says.

"I'm afraid to swing high," I admit to him. "That's part of my stuff."

He springs up out of the swing and walks over to me, making me tense up nervously. Suddenly his firm, warm hands are on my back, pushing my whole body forwards on the swing. I go quickly back and forth, higher, higher. My legs swing freely, and I twist from side to side in my seat. I keep climbing with every pass until for a second - just one wonderful moment - I'm flying.

"Underdog!" TJ shouts, and runs underneath me. I can just make out a blur of blond hair making its way out from under me as I return to the earth, heart racing. "That was exhilarating!"

"You want another?"

Everything inside of me feels right about this, but I can't. "No thank you," I reply.

"Too bad," he says, and I'm flying again. Something about this moment make me feel like we're the only two people in the world. Something about this moment makes me feel purely alive.

I could live in this moment forever. And I would, if it weren't for...

"Cyrus? Are you ok?" Buffy starts running toward us, and TJ stops abruptly.

"I've gotta go," he says. "But thanks for reminding me about swinging. That helped."

"What's going on?" Buffy has finally gotten to us. "TJ? Hey Cyrus, could you give us the park?"

"Sure," I say, turning to TJ. "You know where to find me. And so do you," I tell Buffy.

What a wonderfully weird day.

* * *

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	2. Costume Day

"Why did you do that?" I'm not mad. I'm not really sure what I'm feeling. I guess this is just one of those things that doesn't belong to language; there are no words that can make this make sense. It's almost like I lost something important to me, even though I never had it to begin with.

"Cyrus, can we talk about this some other time?" His voice sounds weak, almost wounded.

"Why, so you can go tell Kira about it and forget to let me know that I'm not part of it anymore?" The words surprise me as they come out of my mouth. I don't want him to hurt any more than he already does. Why did I say that? "I'm sorry, I don't mean that."

"Yes, you do. And I deserve to hear it. I feel awful about it, Cyrus. Believe me, you have no idea how much that hurt."

"Then why did you do it? I was so excited to wear that costume with you, and seeing you in that stupid 'dribble' shirt felt like being hit by a ton of bricks."

"I was scared, Cyrus."

I wasn't expecting that. I freeze for a minute to make sure I heard him right. "Scared of what?"

"Kira figured something out, and it terrified me. I thought she was going to tell the whole basketball team about it, and that really scared me. There are just some things that I'm not ready for them to know about yet."

"What things?" If it was dyscalculia, he would've just said it. We're in the park with no one around us. Just trees in every direction. One of the best places to feel small and alone.

He freezes with a look on his face like a baby deer staring down the barrel of a gun. For the first time in my life, I'm seeing TJ completely afraid.

"Hey," I reach for his shoulder and rest my hand on it, "you can tell me anything, remember? That's why we were going to be a somersault. We can get through things, any things, together."

He closes his eyes and tilts his head down. By the time he opens them again, he's staring at his shoes.

"I like you, Cyrus."

Four simple words, thirteen letters. That's all it takes to make me fall apart. Now I'm staring at my own shoes, and I'm frozen again.

"TJ, I had no idea," I say weakly.

"That shirt wasn't the only costume I was wearing. There's a reason you didn't know."

There's something about that that I completely understand, like we've been talking about it for hours.

"This isn't how I wanted to tell you," he says, eyes still locked on the ground, "but now you know."

He looks up at me now, and I don't know what to do. I just stare at the ground a little longer.

"How did you want to tell me?" I ask, looking up now.

"I would be standing under the swings, wearing a baseball jersey with the number 12 on it. Then you'd walk over, and ask me why I wasn't swinging. Truth is, I've been swinging by myself a lot for the past few years, and I don't want to swing alone anymore. I like the way I am around you. I like how everything lights up when I'm with you. And I really like the way that I feel when I talk to you. You make me happy, Cyrus, happier than I've ever been. No matter where I am, no matter what I'm doing, I find myself thinking about you, and I don't want that to stop. So I was wondering if you might want to swing with me for a little while?"

"TJ," I say, causing him to look into my eyes, "I've been thinking a lot about you, too."

He wraps his arms around me like a border, swaddling me in his warmth. I can feel his strong back underneath my hands, feel his chest rising and falling with every breath like the rhythm of a song that I want to hear over and over again. I never want to leave the space between his arms.

"Cyrus," he says to me.

"TJ," I whisper back.

"I have to go to work." We haven't let go of each other.

"Can I go with you?"

"I really hoped you would."

"Can we walk there like this?"

"It's worth a try," he laughs softly.

We half-walk half-waddle a short way before I mess up my footing and we fall, still in each others' arms.

That's the end of the best costume day ever.

* * *

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